


my hands and heart were tied (but I was scared of almost nothing at all)

by thisbluegirl



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Anxiety, Bearded Chris Evans, Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, Face Slapping, Face-Sitting, Hair-pulling, Light BDSM, M/M, Mackie doms everybody, Multi, Oral Sex, Pining, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Seb is a bossy bottom, Threesome - M/M/M, sebastian stan's mouth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2019-05-02 04:32:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14536722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisbluegirl/pseuds/thisbluegirl
Summary: Anthony’s hand slides up from the back of the chair, over the nape of Chris’s neck and up to cover Seb’s fingers so that they’re both touching him, holding him, keeping him with them when Chris feels in his bones that it could just as easily be the two of them alone. They just have so much damn chemistry, it seems effortless. On set, during press, at cons, at home, Seb and Anthony are just so damn good together, so natural and easy. Nothing like Chris’s awkward fumbling, trying to keep his crushes a secret. Trying to tell himself it was Steve who was in love with Bucky, Steve who was falling for Sam, not Chris pining away over his co-stars.





	my hands and heart were tied (but I was scared of almost nothing at all)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [notcaycepollard](https://archiveofourown.org/users/notcaycepollard/gifts).
  * Inspired by [dreamt about you nearly every night this week (how many secrets can you keep)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10365588) by [notcaycepollard](https://archiveofourown.org/users/notcaycepollard/pseuds/notcaycepollard). 



 

 

They’re filming in Atlanta, and many of the cast have rented houses or apartments instead of being put up in hotels. The house they’ve found for Chris is bigger than he expected, with a nice kitchen and a wooded backyard. At the end of a long day on set, it’s nice to have somewhere to retreat to, something quieter and a little homier than a suite in a hotel. 

The yard makes him miss his dog, but one of his friends is staying at the house in LA while Chris is shooting, so Dodger’s routine isn’t too upset. The internet, on the other hand, lost its frickin’ mind over Chris’s Instagram post about missing his dog before Chris quickly clarified that Dodger’s  _ fine _ , just home in LA while Chris is stuck a couple thousand miles away. It’s stupid, he knows, and Chris will deny it if asked, but he calls Melissa and gets her to put Dodger on Facetime at least once a day. He doubts the dog really understands what’s going on, but Chris likes to see Dodger’s goofy doggy grin and wagging tail, and he definitely does not hang up thinking  _ at least my  _ dog _ loves me…  _

At the house, Chris can relax. Sort of. As much as he ever relaxes. He can sit outside on the patio with a beer and imagine life in the suburbs. And when their schedules align, Seb and Mackie can come by, and the three of them can spend a few hours… yeah. 

Whatever they started that day out in LA, Marvel’s unforgiving shooting schedule has made it difficult to keep up with. But right now, for this brief time that they’re all together in Atlanta, it’s like they were never apart. It’s funny; they’ve all sort of grown up with this franchise, and by the time Civil War was wrapping, they were all such old pros that they’d kind of lost the wide-eyed wonder they had gone in with. This thing between them, though, it seems to have rekindled the spark, making them act like goofy twenty-somethings on set instead of a bunch of guys in their mid-thirties.

Though there are some humorous moments in the script, Infinity War is pretty dark, thematically speaking, so they do what they can to lighten the mood: goof around on set, leave stupid shit in each other’s trailers, ham it up for BTS footage. There seems to be an Instagram war going on between Seb and Anthony over dramatic selfies and artistically framed landscapes. 

And Chris keeps finding random beard-grooming paraphernalia in his trailer, but he’s not gonna lie – he’s kinda psyched that he doesn’t have to shave it this time around. He thinks it might be a visual shorthand for “character development.” They’re grizzled old soldiers now, right? Anyway, he’s probably overthinking it. As usual. Whatever, Seb looks amazing with a beard. The long hair is a wig this time, and it brings Chris up short for a moment each time he sees Seb without it. Anthony’s got his goatee back, along with a razor-thin beard, looking sharp and sexy, something at which Chris’s own goatee attempt (for, like, ten minutes back in 2009) spectacularly failed.

Chris has a rep for being a bad cook, probably due to his being overly self-deprecating in an interview a time or two. But it’s not true. Okay, maybe he has a limited repertoire, but he can follow a recipe. And somehow it’s become a thing for Chris to cook for Anthony and Sebastian when they have time off, which to be honest, has only been like three times since that first fateful lasagna back in LA. 

And somehow their schedules have finally managed to align in Atlanta, so Chris is making local rainbow trout with lemon-caper sauce and zucchini noodles. Chris kind of hates that he knows what a spiralizer is, but the trade-off for no pasta is the couple of pints of raspberry lemon and mandarin orange sorbet from Jake’s hiding in the freezer. In the shop, imagining Mackie spoon-feeding Seb, Chris had very nearly popped a boner. He’s on the verge of it again now, just thinking about it... 

Maybe he should’ve taken a cold shower before he started cooking. 

Chris is pondering whether it would be totally classless to suggest skipping dinner and just eating dessert straight out of the containers when Seb and Mackie show up. Mackie’s got an overnight bag, and Seb’s carrying a bottle of Glengoyne 18 year old scotch that Chris knows Anthony brought back from Scotland.

Chris has a flash of a very specific photoshoot Seb did back in the day. “You’re not gonna pour that all over your head, are you?” he asks.

Seb’s face does a thing, and he tries to deflect with batted eyelashes and a pretty pout. “Only if you ask nicely,” he says, winking as he slips past Chris. Ha. It isn’t going to take a bottle of scotch or polite requests to get Seb out of his clothes tonight, that’s for damn sure.

Mackie steps across the threshold, rolling his eyes and smiling that knockout smile as he leans in for a hug. Chris follows them through to the kitchen, Seb leading the way as if he owns the place. Seb beelines for the cabinets as if he knows exactly where the glasses are. He finds the right door on the first try, lines up three glasses, and pours a finger of whisky into each one. He lifts his glass to his lips and hesitates, suddenly noticing Chris’s and Mackie’s attention. “Sláinte,” he says, and Chris can’t look away from Seb’s pink mouth.

A study in contradictions, that kid is. Always has been, since the beginning. Confident and self-assured one moment, lost like a little lamb the next; crazy-eyed and dangerous, then softly, sweetly seductive. Chris wonders if it’s something Seb will ever grow out of, if he’ll ever lose that little hint of vulnerability. It makes something in Chris’s chest tighten, makes him feel a little protective; he knows how fast Hollywood can chew you up and spit you out if you’re not careful.

Chris and Mackie join the toast, and Seb gives them a little smile and backs out of the room.

Mackie arches an eyebrow and shrugs a little as if to say he doesn’t quite get Seb, either. “Nice kitchen,” he says, changing the subject. “You been cooking a lot?”

“Ugh,” Chris says, blinking back into the conversation. “Mostly chicken and brown rice and so much broccoli and cauliflower I can hardly stand it. But yeah. It’s kind of nice to be cooking my own instead of microwaving something from the nutritionist, y’know? You guys okay with rainbow trout?”

Seb pokes his head back around the corner. “Risotto?” he asks hopefully.

“Jesus, Seb, you are fixated.” Mackie says. “Don’s still keeping you off the carbs, huh?”

Sebastian huffs and rolls his eyes. “As long as we’re still training, yeah.”

“If you’re still training,” Mackie drawls, grinning, “why you still got them little chicken legs? You been skipping leg day again, man?”

Seb gives a little petulant  _ no  _ and pats his chest self-consciously. “You haven’t seen all that ‘Superhero Suit-Up’ nonsense all over Facebook and Instagram?”

“Baby.” Mackie says, running his gaze over Seb from head to toe and back again. “Everybody and their cousin has seen that shit. We all know how much you like being watched.”

Chris watches Seb swallow hard, cheeks pinking with a faint blush, pupils visibly dilating. 

“Whatever,” Seb says dismissively, sipping his whisky, trying for nonchalant and missing by a mile.

To distract himself, Chris slides the fish into the oven and gives the guys a nickel tour of the house. It’s a nice place, a little big for one person. Not too over the top, and nothing like his place in LA. Or Boston, for that matter. The house is in a gated community. There’s a huge tub in the master suite, one that might, if they were really creative about it, fit three superhero-sized actors. There’s a gas fireplace in the living room, and there’s even a meditation room with huge windows that look out into the back yard.

Chris had had a particularly…  _ stimulating _ fantasy about getting Seb on his knees out there between him and Anthony. But that was before he discovered that the neighbor’s top-floor windows look directly down into that yard. Hard no to paparazzi getting ahold of  _ those _ pics. Not that Chris wouldn’t shout it from the rooftops if he could. He’s kinda gone on his guys. But he’d like to still be able to get work after all this Infinity War insanity is over with. And for whatever reason, Hollywood is  _ just fine _ with actors having a string of hetero costar hookups, and is finally kind of coming around about long-term gay relationships, but Chris just doesn’t think the industry is quite ready for three Marvel stars to come out about their bisexuality and their ethical non-monogamy all at once, much less the three that fans already “ship” as “All Caps” (yeah, that was a Google rabbit-hole he should’ve avoided).

The oven timer goes off just as they’re rounding the corner back into the kitchen, and Chris warms the zucchini noodles in the lemon sauce while Seb and Anthony put the salad bowls together. Chris takes the time to actually plate their dishes, which earns him an approving raise of eyebrows from Mackie. Seb bemoans the lack of pasta, but he practically licks the plate clean, so it can’t have been all that bad.

Chris was right about the sorbet. He serves it in the little dessert cups he found in the cupboard because, contrary to popular opinion, he’s not actually a frat boy. As predicted, Seb loves it, eating one tiny spoonful at a time to draw it out and making orgasmic faces as each one touches his lips. Slowly, Chris notices that both he and Mackie have stopped eating their own dessert and are instead watching Sebastian. When Seb takes his last bite, his mournful expression is so pitiful that Chris can’t stifle a laugh.

“Here, Seb,” Mackie says, holding out a spoonful. Seb reaches to take the spoon and Mackie yanks it back. “Ah-ah, open up,” he says.

Chris nearly melts through the floor. There is no way Anthony could have known, and yet it’s happening, right in front of him.

Seb flushes bright red but does as he’s told, lips parting to accept the spoon.

“Evans,” Anthony says, snapping Chris out of his haze of arousal. “You got any left?”

Chris nods, scoops up some of the mandarin orange sorbet and offers it. Seb never takes his eyes from Chris’s as he leans forward and closes his mouth around the spoon and draws away. Mackie scoots closer to Seb, and this time he swipes his finger through the melting raspberry lemon sorbet in his bowl. Seb takes Mackie’s finger in to the second knuckle, and Mackie gives a strangled little moan.

“Fuck,” Chris breathes.

“Oh, you feelin’ left out, Christopher?” Anthony says, scooping up more sorbet with his finger. He holds it out to Chris, and Chris feels his stomach flip. He leans in, moments flowing like syrup as he opens his mouth for Anthony’s finger. He sucks it clean, not sure whose gaze is more intense: Seb’s, full of barely-restrained hunger, or Mackie’s, cool and sharply assessing.

Mackie’s finger slips free and he gives Chris a little smirk. “Good boy, Chris,” he says, voice a low rumble, and Chris’s cock jerks in response. “I think he deserves a reward, don’t you, Sebastian?” Seb nods. “How about you give him a little kiss,” Mackie says, gesturing between them. Seb nods again, smiling, and Chris is struck for what has to be the thousandth time by the bottomless blue of his eyes. 

Chris reaches out and Seb clambers into his lap. He wraps an arm around Seb’s back and feels Seb’s fingers dig into his shoulders, runs a hand up to curl around the back of Seb’s neck and draws him down until he can taste citrus and sugar on Seb’s breath. And then Seb closes the distance and he’s slipping his tongue into Chris’s mouth, and his lips are soft and sweetly sticky, and his beard catches and prickles against Chris’s, and it’s so good, better than Chris remembers, Seb warm and solid in his arms, and Chris is… being  _ selfish _ , is what he is. He’s the damn host and here he is, hogging all the attention...

He draws back, pulling a sound of protest from Seb’s lips. Seb blinks down at him, eyes glassy, brows turned up in a silent question, and Chris leans up to leave a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth.

“Anthony’s been good, too, don’t you think?” he asks. “Yeah,” Seb breathes, tongue flicking out in that damn distracting gesture. Chris gives him a little swat on the hip as he stands and turns to Anthony, who’s watching them with a quiet smile.

Mackie pats his thighs and Seb straddles him, and Chris can’t help but stare at the two them. They’re so good together, Mackie smiling softly up at Seb, Seb gazing down at Mackie with something like adoration. Their kisses are soft, sweet even. And Chris isn’t jealous,  _ can’t be _ jealous, they’re here with him, he’s part of this, too, but… still. He presses the heel of his hand a little at the ache behind his sternum. He’s on the outside again. As usual. As always.

_ Get over yourself, Evans _ , he thinks, shaking his head like that’ll knock the intrusive thoughts away.

“Christopher,” Anthony says. And  _ why _ does Mackie using his whole name get to him like that? “Why’re you sitting over there by yourself, man? You don’t wanna play with us anymore?”

Mackie’s looking at Chris, and though Chris somehow knows Anthony will never say it out loud, his expression is far too knowing. He quirks his eyebrow and extends his hand. 

Chris gracelessly slide-hops into Sebastian’s abandoned chair, and Mackie drapes an arm over the back of it. Seb shifts on Anthony’s lap, and Anthony leans up to kiss him, sucking and nipping at that  _ fucking _ mouth, that pouty lower lip, the one that drives Chris out of his damn mind. And then Anthony’s hand is on Seb’s nape, guiding him over to Chris, and Seb runs his tongue over his lip like he knows  _ exactly _ what the fuck he’s doing, and Chris makes this  _ sound _ . It’s so possessive and impatient and aggressive, Chris is actually embarrassed by it. 

Until he sees Seb’s pupils dilate. And then he’s not sure who moves first, but they’re crushing their mouths together, hard enough to bruise.

God, it’s so good, Seb’s mouth is  _ so _ good. Seb’s hand slides tentatively into Chris’s hair, and the hesitation in his touch has Chris shifting to get closer.

Seb pulls back and Chris feels a surge of panic before Seb’s gentle grip in his hair is urging him toward Anthony.

“Nobody needs to feel left out,” Seb murmurs. Chris’s breath stutters for a moment. He hadn’t known he was so transparent, but they just keep seeing right through him.

Anthony’s hand slides up from the back of the chair, over the nape of Chris’s neck and up to cover Seb’s fingers so that they’re both touching him, holding him, keeping him with them when Chris feels in his bones that it could just as easily be the two of them alone. They just have so much damn chemistry, it seems effortless. On set, during press, at cons, at home, Seb and Anthony are just so damn good together, so natural and easy. Nothing like Chris’s awkward fumbling, trying to keep his crushes a secret. Trying to tell himself it was Steve who was in love with Bucky, Steve who was falling for Sam, not Chris pining away over his co-stars.

Chris makes a quiet, involuntary noise that sounds more wounded than he would like to admit, and then Mackie is closing the distance between them, pressing his unbelievably beautiful mouth to Chris’s.

“We got you, baby,” Mackie says, lips moving against Chris’s. Where kissing Seb was frantic, urgent, Anthony’s kiss is slow and sensuous and full of promise. He nips Chris’s lower lip gently and makes a deep, pleased sound as he pulls away.

“We gonna do this at the kitchen table, or y’all wanna take this somewhere more comfortable?” Mackie asks, smirking that self-satisfied smirk that says he already knows the answer but wants to hear you say it.

Chris clears his throat and straightens up a bit in his chair as they start to disentangle themselves from one another. “I’ll clear up in here if you guys want to… y’know, make yourselves at home or whatever.”

_ Jesus _ , he can feel himself blush, thinking  _ Chris, you meatball _ , and trying to cover by pushing away from the table and gathering the dishes. After a moment of awkward silence, the Seb-and-Mackie Show starts up again.

“Seriously, Seb, what does Don have you doing in that hipster-ass gym anyway? He tryna give you tits as big as Evans over there?”

“Whatever,” Seb laughs, climbing out of Mackie’s lap. “Not all of us can have giant bubble butts,  _ Mackie _ , so we have to compensate somehow.”

“Look, it’s gotta be a balance. If one Captain America is all tits and no ass, the other has to be all ass, alright? I don’t make the rules!” Mackie’s expression of mock outrage is pure Juilliard, oozing through his calm rearrangement of the napkin holder, salt and pepper shakers, and placemats.

Seb harrumphs, straightening the chairs. “Yeah, well,  _ this _ Captain America is gonna have both, okay? And the internet happens to  _ love _ my hipster-gym murder-thighs, thank you very much. There are whole Tumblrs devoted to the Thighs of Betrayal.”

“Yeah, Seb, your  _ thighs _ ,” Anthony says, winking at Chris as he steers Seb out of the kitchen. “Ain’t nobody writing poems about your skinny-ass calves. And what the fuck are you doing on that hellsite, anyway? You can’t even use Insta right!”

The sound of their good-natured sniping follows them down the hall as Chris tidies the counters, sorts the trash, recycling, and compost, wipes down the table, hand-washes the crystal whisky glasses.

As Chris puts the last bowl in the dishwasher, he notices things have gotten pretty quiet. There’s none of the non-stop banter and giggling from before. Then he hears it: a soft gasp followed by a throaty groan. He dries his hands and peeks around the corner. Mackie’s got Seb shoved up against the wall, head tilted back, Mackie’s mouth on Seb’s throat, hands pinning Seb’s wrists up over his head. Mackie says something against Seb’s skin, too low for Chris to hear, and Seb nods, eyelashes fluttering shut. When Anthony starts to draw his hands down Seb’s arms, Seb stays in place, restrained by words alone.

Chris is fascinated. He wouldn’t have pegged himself for a voyeur, but  _ fuck _ . They’re hypnotic together.

Mackie rucks Seb’s shirt up, winds it into makeshift cuffs around Seb’s wrists, and trails his fingers back down forearms, biceps, collarbones. He pays special attention to Seb’s nipples, plucking and twisting them until Seb’s arching against him, until Chris could swear he can feel it in his own groin. He cups himself through his jeans; he’s almost uncomfortably hard already.

“Damn,” Anthony mutters, shaking his head as he takes a step back. Seb stays where Anthony put him, panting. “Evans, were you just gonna let me fuck him up against this wall and not say a damn thing about it?” Mackie’s expression hovers between amused and disappointed, and Chris feels his face go hot, caught peeping with his hand on his dick.

Seb drags his heavy-lidded gaze between the two of them, says, “He likes watching what you do to me,” to Mackie; says “Don’t you?” to Chris.

Chris’s dick twitches in agreement.

“All right, everybody out of the hallway,” Mackie orders, clapping his hands. “Bedroom, let’s go, move, move.”

In the master suite, Mackie sits on the bench at the foot of the king sized bed. “Chris,” he says, patting the spot next to him. Chris goes, entranced.

“C’mere, Seb,” Mackie says, snapping his fingers and pointing at the floor between his feet. Seb practically flings himself into the space between Mackie’s knees.

“How do you want this to go tonight, Sebastian?” Anthony asks.

“I want to show Chris how you take care of me,” he says.

“And how do you want to do that, sweetheart?” Mackie asks.

“Do I have to say it?” Seb murmurs. “You already know.”

“Clear and enthusiastic consent, Sebastian, you know the rules,” Mackie says, reaching up to pat Seb’s cheek, just shy of a slap.

Seb’s eyes flutter shut and his tongue flicks out to wet his lips in that distracting little gesture he makes, and  _ fuck _ , Chris just wants to bite him when he does that shit.

Seb’s voice wobbles when he answers, but he opens his eyes and holds Mackie’s gaze. “H… Hit me, Anthony. Please.”

Anthony smiles and drags his thumb over Seb’s mouth. “That all you want, baby? Just a couple of slaps?”

Sebastian takes a shaky breath. “I want you to hit me, like really hit me. Both of you.” His eyes flicker over to Chris before snapping back to Mackie. “Make me feel it.”

“I got you, baby,” Mackie murmurs. “You ready?”

The slap lands just as Seb starts to nod, hard enough to surprise a grunt out of him, hard enough to make Chris jump. He watches the pulse pick up in Seb’s throat, sees his eyes water. Jesus, he had gotten an inkling back in LA of the stuff Seb and Mackie got up to but thought it was mostly just Seb acting like a brat and Anthony spanking him a little or pulling his hair. He had no idea it was like this...

“Seb,” Chris breathes, watching the red spot bloom on Sebastian’s cheek. Anthony’s kind of watching Chris out of the corner of his eye, like he’s making sure Chris is on board. Chris is… undecided. “You okay?” he asks Seb. Seb blinks up at Chris for a second, like he didn’t quite hear the question, then nods and takes a deep breath.

Mackie slips his fingers into Seb’s hair.

“Aw, he likes to get hit, don’t you, baby?” Mackie murmurs. Seb groans, “Yeah, I like it,” eyes practically rolling back in his head.

Chris watches with a slack jaw as Anthony slaps Seb full across the face again, and Sebastian fucking  _ moans _ , eyelashes fluttering. 

“What’d I tell you?” Mackie grins at Chris. “Want a go?”

Seb snaps to attention. “ _ Fuck _ , yes,” he says, turning hopeful, glazed eyes in Chris’s direction. Mackie uses his grip in Seb’s hair like a handle, tipping Seb’s head toward Chris like an offering. Chris slips his hand into the thick waves of Sebastian’s hair, feeling the brush of Anthony’s fingers like an electric current. For a moment, the two of them alternate tugs on Seb’s hair, then Anthony’s hand slides down the back of Seb’s neck to push him closer to Chris.

Seb shuffles over on his knees until he’s tucked up between Chris’s thighs, and Mackie slides off the bench and snugs himself right up behind Seb, slipping around until his chin is resting on Seb’s shoulder, mouth just a whisper away from his ear.

“Look at him, baby,” Mackie murmurs. The surreal blue of Sebastian’s eyes peek up at Chris through lashes that look perpetually mascaraed. “He wants you so bad, he doesn’t know where to start, Seb.” 

Chris feels his cock jerk as Seb whines, shoulders shifting like he wants to reach out, but Mackie’s got his arms pinned behind him. Anthony reaches around and opens Seb’s jeans, yanking them down around his thighs so Seb’s cock springs free. Anthony pins Seb’s arms back again and sits back on his own heels, pulling Seb with him until Seb’s back arches, hips pushed forward, cock bobbing and drooling. 

It’s not like Chris has never seen Sebastian shirtless, even naked, but somehow Chris is still completely captivated by the shift of muscle in Seb’s abdomen, the deep vee of his iliac furrow. Seb has been in great shape for as long as Chris has known him, but in Winter Soldier-Bucky condition, he’s solid, all muscle and sinew, and Chris kind of wants to lick him all over.

“Go on,” Mackie prompts. “Give him a little slap. Watch what it does to his dick.”

Chris hesitates – as much as he wants to, he’s never really slapped anyone around for sex before. A light spank or two, but faces just seemed… off limits. But then he catches Seb watching him, waiting. Seb nods, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. Chris lays his palm against Seb’s cheek and watches his pupils dilate, draws back and lets fly, breath catching in his throat as he feels the  _ crack _ …

And can’t hold back his own moan as Seb’s cock jerks and drips against his belly. 

“Shit,” he breathes, watching Seb’s muscles flex and twist against Mackie’s hold.

“Told you,” grins Mackie.

Chris can’t believe it. He just slapped Sebastian full in the face, and Seb  _ is getting off on it _ . Chris strokes his fingers lightly over the mark he left on Seb’s face and Seb’s breath hitches. He licks his lips, looking up at Chris.

Chris tangles his fingers deep in Seb’s hair and gives him a little shake. “God, look at you. You love this.” Seb’s eyes are glassy, pupils so blown his eyes look black. He slurs a little when he speaks. “You got no fuckin’ idea.” A drunk smirk tugs at his lips. “You should try it. Let Mackie smack you around a little.”

“Nah,” Mackie interrupts. “Getting your face slapped isn’t really your thing, is it, Evans.” He arches an eyebrow knowingly. “Don’t worry, we got you, baby,” he says, and his grin is promising, threatening, enticing all at once.

He shifts out from behind Seb, wraps one big hand around the back of Chris’s neck and squeezes. The touch is familiar, reassuring, but it goes on just a little too long to be simply a friendly gesture. It’s uncomfortable for a moment: too steady, too intimate. Chris shivers. His heart’s pounding. His breath catches in his throat, and his shoulders hitch as he moves to shake free of the hold. And then Anthony brings his other hand up and curls it softly around the front of Chris’s neck, his thumb grazing Chris’s Adam’s apple before settling like a collar against Chris’s skin. Chris’s breath drops out of him in a rush, shaky.

“Beautiful,” Mackie breathes. “Christopher, look at you, you’re so fucking gorgeous.”

Never in a million years will Chris ever admit to making the sound he makes next. Suddenly his eyelids are too heavy to hold open, his head too heavy to hold upright, and he slumps off the bench onto his knees and goes slack in Mackie’s arms, dropping his head to Anthony’s shoulder as he vaguely registers Seb sliding arms around him from behind.

“That’s right, baby,” Anthony murmurs. “I told you. We got you, Chris.”

Seb echoes him, “We’ve got you. We’re right here.”

Anthony tilts Chris’s face up with a fingertip to Chris’s chin. “Oh, you’re wrecked, huh, baby.”

Chris can’t focus on anything but Mackie’s mouth. He wants Mackie to kiss him, suddenly wants it more than he wants air, but he can’t move, can’t speak. He swallows and swallows, licks his lips, and he is - he is  _ not  _ going to cry. He’s  _ not _ . Anthony smiles. And then his mouth is on Chris’s mouth, his hand still on the back of Chris’s neck, squeezing, shifting Chris where he wants him,  _ Jesus _ , devouring him.

Chris is suspended between them, Anthony’s mouth, Seb’s arms, and he feels dizzy with it. Anthony kisses him and Seb holds him and by degrees Chris floats back to the surface, enough to register Seb’s steady heartbeat against his back and Anthony’s thumb stroking over the pulse in Chris’s throat. 

Anthony gives him one last kiss and pulls back, and the depth of his gaze makes Chris feel broken open and exposed. He’s fully clothed and he feels more naked than he’s ever felt on a set. And he’s done a lot of really ridiculous nudity on set, okay? A lot. But Mackie just cradles his face in his hands, says, “Doing okay?” And Chris nods. “We got you, alright? We’re not going anywhere.” Chris takes a shuddering breath and feels Seb’s arms relax minutely, grip loosening as Chris’s ribcage expands.

“Damn,” Mackie says, “that really hit you, huh?” Chris’s face flushes. He can’t remember ever feeling that undone before. It’s unsettling. “Hey. We got you, Christopher,” Mackie says again, squeezing his shoulders, and Chris feels that  _ flutter  _ again at the use of his full name. What the fuck  _ is  _ that?

“Okay, turn around,” Anthony says, rising off his knees and moving back to sit on the bench. Chris takes a deep breath and puts his impending existential crisis on hold. He’s a little shaky, having opened a door he didn’t know was there, and he kind of wants to fall apart right now, but more than that, he really wants to know what happens next. He shuffles over on his knees as Mackie gets Seb turned around, holding him by the shoulders until Chris gets into position.

“Hold his arms back, not too tight,” Mackie says. Chris kneels behind Seb and wraps his hands around Seb’s biceps, just above the elbow, feeling them flex and relax in Chris’s hold. He tugs them back until Seb’s elbows are almost touching and are pressed up against Chris’s chest.

“Okay?” he murmurs. “Yeah, it’s good,” Seb whispers back.

“Okay, now watch,” Mackie says. “You want to make sure your fist is flat and your knuckles are tucked in. We’re not trying to damage anybody here, okay?” He demonstrates, butting the flat of his fist against the plane of Seb’s pectoral muscle before drawing back and striking. It echoes through Seb’s body into Chris and makes them both grunt. Mackie does it again with the other hand on the opposite side. Then he uses both fists at the same time, again and again. Seb groans through it and Chris sets his jaw, each blow lighting him up from head to toe. He can only imagine what it feels like for Seb.

Mackie smooths his hands over Seb’s pecs and then gives his chest a glancing downward slap that seems to strike only Seb’s nipple, making him hiss through his teeth. “That’s it, baby,” Anthony croons. 

Mackie hasn’t laid a hand on Chris, but his body doesn’t seem to have gotten the memo. He feels electrified. With the flat of his hand, Anthony lands a flurry of slaps across Seb’s chest and abs, making him squirm in Chris’s hold. Chris tightens his grip, and without realizing it, finds himself leaning forward to sink his teeth into the meat of Seb’s shoulder. Sebastian yelps and writhes in Chris’s arms and then groans “oh god” and presses back against him.

“Want to touch him, Chris?” Mackie asks. Chris makes a noise he doesn’t recognize. “Do it, then,” Mackie says. “Get your hands on him.”

Chris releases Seb’s elbows, but Seb keeps them in place, leaning back hard and whining as Chris runs his hands up Seb’s shoulders and down over his chest, flicking over his nipples, running over his abs, tucking his fingertips into the grooves at Seb’s hips, watching Seb’s cock throb and pulse with every new touch, and Chris feels every inch as if he’s touching himself.

His own cock is so hard he could hammer nails, but he’s not thinking about getting off. He remembers the surge of  _ want  _ when he was on his knees for Mackie last time, wanting to take him apart. Now, he doesn’t just want to get Seb off, he wants Mackie to  _ use him _ to get Seb off. 

_ Oh _ , he thinks. 

_ Oh. So that’s what this is. _

Mackie taps a finger under Sebastian’s chin and leans in for a kiss, just inches away from Chris’s face. Chris can feel Anthony’s breath, hear the pleased little noise Seb makes into Anthony’s mouth. Mackie’s hands cover Chris’s where they rest against Seb’s belly and draw down, and as Mackie guides Chris’s fingers to wrap around Seb’s cock, Chris lifts his head from Seb’s shoulder and meets Anthony’s lips with his own.

Anthony kisses them each in turn, back and forth until Chris can taste Seb on Anthony’s mouth, over and over as Anthony uses Chris’s fist to stroke Seb’s cock. Time and sensation stretch like taffy, and Chris loses track of who’s making what desperate noise. Seb starts to chant, voice barely a whisper, “Please, please, please, Anthony, please.”

Mackie sucks Seb’s lower lip between his teeth and gives it a little tug. “What do you want, sweetheart?” he asks.

“Please,” Seb begs, squirming in Chris’s hold, “can I come, please, fuck, I can’t...”

Mackie pulls back just enough to make eye contact. “What do you think, Evans?” he asks. “You think he’s been good enough? We gonna let him come?” 

“ _ Fuck _ ,” Chris groans.

Mackie gets his face right up between Chris and Seb and speaks with his lips pressed against Seb’s cheek, quiet like it’s a secret but so close Chris can’t help but hear.

“Sebastian,” he says, “ask Christopher nicely. If he gives you permission, you can come.” 

Chris isn’t sure if the whimper comes from his own throat or from Seb’s,  _ it is just so fucking hot the way Mackie calls him Christopher _ , but his fingers tighten around Seb’s cock. “Chris?” Seb croaks. “Please, can I come?” And Chris’s voice catches in his throat, and he has to swallow hard before he can breathe, “Yeah, Seb, come on, I want you to.”

The noise Seb makes -  _ Jesus _ , Chris has never heard a sexier sound in his life, and he slides one hand up to wrap carefully around Seb’s throat as he feels Seb go rigid in his arms. The three of them press their foreheads together, Chris and Anthony watching their hands on Seb’s cock as it jerks and spills over their fingers.

“Don’t let go, Chris,” Mackie murmurs, sliding his hand down to cup Seb’s balls. It makes Seb shake in Chris’s arms and then whimper as Anthony’s fingers slide back further. Chris feels Seb shift, trying to spread his legs for Anthony and then groaning in frustration at the denim still trapping his thighs. Seb’s throat works under Chris’s fingers, his cock still throbbing in Chris’s grip and jerking again as Mackie touches him.

“That’s right, baby,” Anthony says. “Open up for me.” Seb’s breath hitches and falls out of him on a broken sigh, and his head lolls back against Chris’s shoulder. “ _ Fuck _ , Anthony,” Seb breathes. 

Chris loosens his grip on Seb’s cock, cupping it against Seb’s belly and feeling it soften slightly as he sweeps his thumb along the frenulum. A moment later, Mackie pulls his hand away and Seb makes an unhappy little noise of protest. 

“So fucking needy,” Mackie teases. “You want more? Yeah, you do, look at you.” He shifts back on the bench and tugs Seb off Chris’s shoulder, tipping Seb down until he’s kind of half-draped across Anthony’s thigh, head tucked along Anthony’s hip. 

“Let’s get those jeans off you, brat.” Mackie says, nodding at Chris, who glances briefly at his sticky fingers, about to wipe them off on his own pants when Mackie says, “Huh-uh. On his hole.”

Chris goes hot all over.

Mackie… wants Chris… to lube Seb’s ass… with his own come.

Seb makes a gasping, sobbing sound and arches his back.

In a daze, Chris smears the wet from his fingers between Seb’s cheeks, eliciting another strangled moan, and works Seb’s jeans down and off with the other hand, leaving him in just a pair of white Calvin Klein briefs clinging to his thighs. 

That image, Chris thinks, of Seb on his knees, arms wrapped around Anthony’s waist, underwear yanked down to expose the pale globes of his ass -- that image is burned in Chris’s mind for eternity. There’s something decadent about it, Seb knelt between him and Anthony, nearly nude, almost supplicant.

_ Oh my god _ , he thinks,  _ this is so fucking dirty. Debauched, even. _

And it’s not like he’s some boy scout, but he… he just never thought he’d be exploring sexual power dynamics with two of his best friends, and he’s still a little nervous about it, but he’s  _ kinda into it _ .

When Chris looks up, the expression on Anthony’s face says he can read Chris like an open book. 

“He’s hard again,” Anthony says, conspiratorially. He holds out the fingers of his other hand, “Say  _ ah _ .” 

Chris blushes hard as he opens up and lets Mackie slip his fingers inside to fuck Chris’s mouth gently. “Get them wet,” he says. Chris runs his tongue over Anthony’s fingers, tries to gather as much saliva in his mouth as he can. When Anthony pulls his fingers free, a string of spit trails them. 

“Hold him open,” he says, and Chris obeys, palming Seb’s cheeks apart and exposing his hole, already sticky with come. Seb mutters a litany of breathless curses and moans, and Anthony smears Chris’s spit over Seb’s entrance, making the ring of muscle visibly clench and release. He rubs a finger around, teasing.

“Fuck,  _ fuck _ ,” Seb whines, “please…”

“What do you want, baby?” Mackie asks. “You want my dick?”

“ _ Yes _ ,” Seb pleads, “fucking yes,  _ god _ , give it to me.”

“Get it out, then,” Anthony says, and Seb grabs for the button and zipper of Anthony’s jeans.

“Ah, ah, ah, Seb.”

“Okay, fine.” Seb whines. His voice is wrecked. “Fine,” he says again, leaning in. And Chris watches, dazed, as Sebastian uses his mouth to unbutton and unzip Mackie’s pants. He noses the fly open and buries his face in Mackie’s crotch with a filthy, needy moan.

“Uh-huh. Pout all you want, baby, you know I give you what you need.” Mackie says. “Get these jeans off, Seb. Chris. Give him a hand.”

Chris does, and Seb rolls his eyes, smirk twitching at his lips, but between the two of them they somehow manage to strip Anthony out of his clingy black jeans and boxer briefs. 

“Fuckin’ finally,” Seb grumbles, rubbing his face against Mackie’s dick where it stands up from its nest of dense curls.

“Oh, I see,” Anthony teases. “Somebody’s impatient.”

“Well, why wouldn’t I be? Have you seen this thing? It’s gorgeous,” Seb says, and flicks his tongue over the head of Anthony’s dick.

Mackie fists his hand in Seb’s hair and jerks his head back, and the sound Seb makes is the filthiest, most wanton thing Chris has ever heard.

“Please,” Seb begs, “I want it, Anthony, please, you gotta, I’ve been good, right?”

“Yeah, sweetheart, you’re good,” Anthony says, slipping his thumb into Seb’s mouth and dragging it, slick, over Seb’s lower lip. “Go on then, show Chris how good you are.”

Seb makes another little filthy noise and licks a wet stripe up the shaft of Anthony’s dick before fitting his mouth over the head and starting to sink down. Anthony slumps a little at the first touch of Seb’s mouth, fingers tightening in Seb’s hair before he regains his composure and leans back against the edge of the bed, and then he turns to Chris.

“This boy’s mouth,” he says, shaking his head as if in disbelief.

“I remember,” Chris murmurs.

Seb chokes a little on Mackie’s dick, and Chris watches Mackie’s body go tight all over for a moment. He mutters, “ _ Fuck _ yes, Jesus,” and drags Seb up by his hair so he can kiss him. It’s sloppy and uncoordinated and still utterly perfect, and Chris reaches for Seb before he knows what he’s doing. Anthony tips Seb’s head into Chris’s grip and Chris licks over Seb’s bottom lip to see if he can taste Anthony on him. 

“Shit, y’all are pretty,” Mackie breathes.

Seb smiles against Chris’s mouth and leans into the kiss, putting on a show, making it dirty. Chris  _ can  _ taste Anthony on him, and he chases it, licking deeper into Seb’s mouth, dizzy with how much he wants it, wants  _ them _ .

When he pulls away, the look on Seb’s face is… it’s something. Chris drags his nose along Seb’s jaw until his lips graze Seb’s ear, but he’s looking at Mackie when he asks, “You wanna get fucked, Seb?” 

Mackie’s eyes go half-lidded, the heat of his gaze scorching.

Seb’s response is a breathless  _ please god yes _ before his mouth is stuffed full again with Mackie’s dick.

“Open him up, Evans,” Anthony says. “Here.” He reaches over Seb’s back and palms the cheeks of Seb’s ass. His hole is still glistening with come and saliva, but Chris has learned that too much is almost enough. He spits on his fingers and runs them over Seb’s hole. Mackie says, “again,” and this time Chris directs a slow trail of saliva down the crack of his ass, and Anthony’s fingers catch it before it reaches Seb’s balls, massaging it over and into the little ring of muscle. Chris watches, rapt, as Mackie sinks a finger into Seb up to the first knuckle, pulls it out to tease around the entrance and sinks back in to the second knuckle, with Seb making muffled sounds around Anthony’s cock the whole time.

“C’mon, Evans, get him open,” Mackie says, like Chris is a recalcitrant student. It makes his face go hot again.

“Yeah, alright,” Chris says. “Seb, can you take another one?” Seb makes a desperate sound around Mackie’s dick, and Chris takes it as a yes. He spits on his fingers again and slowly, slowly, presses one finger in beside Anthony’s, marveling at the slick, warm clutch of Seb’s ass around them. He startles to feel Mackie nudge up against him, their slippery fingers rubbing and wrapping together, but the look on Anthony’s face and the sounds Seb makes keep him grounded, remind him how utterly  _ ridiculous  _ it is, what they’re doing. Their fingers are in Sebastians asshole, they used his come for lube, and they’re Chris’s best friends and they’re fucking. In their spare time, between shooting freaking superhero movies for  _ Marvel _ . What even is Chris’s life? 

“Dear fucking god,  _ please _ , somebody fucking fuck me,” Seb groans. It surprises a laugh out of Chris, and when he looks up, Mackie’s grinning, too.

“Up,” Anthony says, and there’s a few moments of fumbling out of clothes, tracking down lube and condoms, and scrambling onto the bed. Chris is still kicking out of his pants when he hears Anthony’s low, “Fuck, yeah.”

Seb is sprawled out on his back and Anthony is kneeling over his shoulders, riding Seb’s face.

Chris climbs up on the bed between Seb’s outstretched legs. For about the hundredth time this evening, his brain gets really noisy, and he has to remind himself to stay in the moment, feel what he’s feeling and not overthink it. They want him here as much as he wants to be here, this is for all of them, Chris  _ belongs _ ...

“C’mon, Christopher,” Mackie says, “get your dick in him.”

Seb slaps Anthony’s ass and says, muffled, “Yeah, Christopher, get your dick in me.”

Mackie smirks and grinds on Seb’s face. “Now Sebastian, you know you have better things to do with that smart mouth...” His face goes slack and his scolding becomes a guttural  _ hnnnggh  _ as Seb demonstrates some of those better things his mouth can do.

Chris licks a stripe up the underside of Seb’s dick before taking the head in his mouth, sucking hard before releasing it with a  _ pop _ , and Seb’s strangled groan is promising. Chris wonders if the smile he feels tugging at his lips is half as wicked as the one curling Anthony’s. Mackie pulls Chris in for a sloppy kiss before handing him a bottle of lube. “I cannot wait to see your face when you get inside him,” he says, shivering as Seb licks him again.

“Me, too,” comes Seb’s muffled voice, and Anthony shifts back until he can lean in and kiss Seb filthily as Chris rolls a condom on and slicks himself up. He smears the remaining lube over Seb’s sticky, loosened hole and feels it flutter under his fingers. “C’mon, c’mon, fuck me, Chris, do it,” Seb pants.

Chris fits the head of his cock against Seb’s entrance and leans into it, a slow, tight press, holding his breath until he’s past that ring of muscle and then it’s a hot, fast slide, watching Seb’s eyes roll back in his head as Chris sinks all the way in.

“Oh,  _ fuck _ ,” Seb groans. “Jesus Christ, you feel good.”

“So do you,” Chris says, voice wrecked and shaky. 

He shifts, preparing to pull back, and Seb hisses, grabs at his hip. “Gimme a sec, goddamn.” Seb’s face is flushed and a bead of sweat runs down his temple, and he’s so beautiful Chris could cry. Chris would give him an eternity if he asked. Seb leans up for a kiss and Chris can taste Mackie on his lips and tongue, and if they never had to leave this room, if Sebastian and Anthony could stay with him, if they could  _ really  _ have this…

“ _ Now _ ,” Seb moans. Anthony’s fingertips catch Chris under the chin as he leans in, and Chris knows he’s being conspicuous again, sees it in Anthony’s eyes, tastes it on his mouth - that trembling and terrifying question…  _ if they could _ ...

“I knew your face would be a picture,” Anthony murmurs. “Do it,” he says, shifting back over Seb’s shoulders as Chris’s hips start to move. Chris pulls out and presses in, and Seb’s long moan vibrates through Mackie’s body, making him swear and grab at his dick.

The slow pace doesn’t last long. Seb gets his legs up over Chris’s shoulders and starts to fuck himself on Chris’s cock, and Chris can see his tongue working behind Anthony’s balls. Anthony curses and twists away, curling down next to Seb and squeezing the base of his dick to keep from coming. “Jesus Christ, Sebastian, your fucking mouth.”

Seb laughs, and the expression of total bliss on his face makes Chris’s heart stutter.

What he would not fucking do to keep these two.

Mackie slides down so he can get his mouth on Seb’s nipples and Seb keens, his hole clenching around Chris’s cock.

“Fuck,” Seb whines. “I’m so fucking close. Come here,” he says, reaching for Chris and getting his arm around Mackie at the same time. He pushes and tugs on Chris and Mackie both, arranging them where he wants them, Mackie snugged up against his side and rubbing off against Seb’s hip, Seb’s mile-long legs wrapped around Chris’s waist, pulling him down so they’re chest to chest. Chris pants against Seb’s mouth, biting him when his tongue flicks out over his lower lip, shoving in deep and grinding up against him to feel Seb’s dick, slick with precome, sliding between their bellies. 

“That’s it, Chris,” Mackie murmurs. “Fuck him just like that.” Chris’s breath stutters, and he kisses Mackie, sucking his tongue and sliding a hand along the curve of Mackie’s ass, feeling the flex of his muscles as he thrusts against Seb’s hip. They exchange a look and Mackie makes a meaningful gesture with his eyebrows. 

He and Chris each shove a hand into Seb’s sweat-damp hair and pull. Seb makes a gut-punched sound, eyes squeezing shut as he comes on Chris’s cock, the rhythmic clutch of his ass sending Chris over the edge as well. Chris curses and grabs at Mackie’s ass, hauling him tighter against Seb’s hip and licking at his mouth until he comes, too, muscles jerking under Chris’s hand.

Chris lets his head drop against Seb’s shoulder and tries to get his breathing under control. Seb curls a hand around the back of his neck, and Mackie presses his lips to Chris’s temple. 

“Jesus,” Chris mutters. “I think you really broke me this time.”

“Don’t feel broken to me,” Seb says, curling his fingers in Chris’s hair and giving a little tug. Chris’s dick gives a halfhearted little pulse and he flinches, overstimulated. Mackie runs a big, warm hand up Chris’s arm and rests it between Chris’s shoulder blades.

“Hey,” he says. “What’d I tell you?” Chris opens his eyes just enough to meet Mackie’s. “We got you, baby. We’re not going anywhere.”

Seb shifts under Chris. “Well,” he says. “Nowhere except that giant bathtub, anyway.” Chris can’t help the smile that tugs at his lips, and he kisses Seb’s shoulder and Mackie’s mouth and starts extricating himself from the tangle of limbs so he can get rid of the condom and start the water running. 

When he leans back through the doorway, Seb and Mackie are wrapped up in each other, trading lazy kisses, and Chris waits for the jealousy and loneliness to seep back into his brain. But it doesn’t. Instead, they turn to him and scramble off the bed, pushing and pulling at him until he’s arranged in the tub the way they want him, and they climb in on top of him and surround him like a couple of octopuses, petting his hair and stroking his throat until he’s in that dizzy, suspended place from before, and he has one last coherent thought before he closes his eyes and lets it ride. 

He doesn’t know how they do it, these two. Always making room for him.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I have yet again shamelessly appropriated a universe built by the inimitable @notcaycepollard. This fic wouldn’t exist without the glorious dreamt about you nearly every night this week (how many secrets can you keep). Please go read it and leave ALL THE KUDOS!
> 
> Title from Carly Rae Jepsen - Warm Blood
> 
> Also, if you needed any additional confirmation that Seb Is Into That, please enjoy this post: http://notcaycepollard.tumblr.com/post/173573134701/kingtchalla-did-you-ever-imagine-that-the


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